


won't you (stay with me)

by deathandnetflix



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bottom Yuri Plisetsky, Boys In Love, Chicken Nugget Minami Kenjirou, Christophe Giacometti is a Good Friend, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Established Relationship, Eventual Fluff, Everyone Is Gay, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Fuckin' Fluffy Mondays, Gay, How Do I Tag, Implied Sexual Content, Late Night Conversations, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Makkachin Lives, Multi, No Angst, No Sex, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phichit Chulanont Is a Good Friend, Phichit Chulanont is a Little Shit, Romantic Fluff, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Shopping, Sorry Not Sorry, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, This Is STUPID, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Otabek Altin, True Love, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Wedding Planning, Wedding Rings, Weddings, Welcome to the Madness (Yuri!!! on Ice), What Was I Thinking?, Yakov Feltsman Is So Done, Yaoi on Ice, Yuri Plisetsky's Nickname Is Yurio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 04:38:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15678171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathandnetflix/pseuds/deathandnetflix
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor are getting married. Yurio and Otabek are the wedding planners. Very long very fluffy wedding scene that took four hours to write.Excerpt:“Weren’t you supposed to be arranging flowers?” Yurio asked, scowling at his boyfriend and arranging his hair in front of his face to hide his blush.“Victor got distracted.”Yurio grumbled, but he didn’t resist Otabek setting the flower crown on his head with a featherlight touch and a chaste kiss on the forehead.“Get a room,” Victor and Yuuri hooted at the same time, high-fiving each other.ONESHOT





	won't you (stay with me)

**Author's Note:**

> me, crying, knowing I have schoolwork and a vld fanfic I left unattended: let's write shit fanfiction about viktuuri and otayurio

“Question,” Yurio called from the other room in a voice a bit too saccharine to actually mean he was happy.

“What,” Yuuri groaned, dragging out the word and rushing into the cluttered dining room, which was covered in wedding paraphernalia. His glasses were on upside down, and he didn’t even seem to be bothered by it. 

“People who said that their wedding planning goes off smoothly and without a hitch are most definitely pulling bullshit. I haven’t accomplished anything and it’s been four hours. I am actually going to rip my own hair out.” He paused his monologue to send a pleading expression at Yuurio. “At least tell me that plans are going smoothly for you.”

“Don’t rip your hair out. You’d look even uglier than you already are. Besides, that’s the least of your worries right now,” Yurio said dismissively, opening the cardboard box perched on top of everything else on the table. “You know how you hired JJ to make invitations?”

“Knew that was a mistake, but go on.”

“Ta-motherfucking-da,” Yurio deadpanned, rolling out a giant poster and smearing his palm across it to lay flat. “JJ texted me, said he got a bit distracted while looking at layouts. Bullshit excuse, if you tell me.”

Instead of the traditional wedding invitation, the poster was printed with JJ winking at the camera and finger gunning against a heart-printed background.  
“Unbelievable,” Yuuri finally said after staring at it disgustingly for six minutes and thirty two seconds.

“Motherfucking bitch ass cow turd,” Yurio mumbled, hands curled into fists at his sides.

“Language!”

“I said turd instead of shit! Baby steps!”

Yuuri slammed his head on the table slowly and repeatedly.

“Haven’t seen you this stressed in a long time,” Yurio observed.  
Yuuri ran his hands down his face. “I just need one thing to go right right now. All I ask.”  
Yurio made a sound of agreement. “Don’t know if anybody can possibly find a silver lining in this right now.”

“I made two for Yuuri and Yurio’s heads,” Victor Nikiforov singsonged whimsically as if on cue, twirling into the dining room and placing a wreath of flowers on his fiancé’s head.  
Yuuri instantly melted. “It’s beautiful, Victor,” he said, smiling softly.  
“Your glasses are upside down,” Victor cooed, fixing them and kissing Yuuri on the nose. Yuuri let out an affectionate laugh.

“Get a room,” Yurio muttered, turning back to the poster and the 179 others in the box in front of him. “Maybe if we order locally we can get it sooner. And more accurately.” He twisted his mouth like he’d tasted a lemon. “Stupid JJ.”

“Aren’t you going to ask where the second flower crown is?” Victor said excitedly, bouncing up and down on his toes.

“You’re a two year old. And hidden behind your back, most likely.”

“Surprise,” Otabek Altin said in a monotone, stepping out from behind Victor. “A flower crown.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be arranging flowers?” Yurio asked, scowling at his boyfriend and arranging his hair in front of his face to hide his blush.

“Victor got distracted.”  
Yurio grumbled, but he didn’t resist Otabek setting the flower crown on his head with a featherlight touch and a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“Get a room,” Victor and Yuuri hooted at the same time, high-fiving each other.  
Yurio flipped them off and pulled out his tablet, searching up “design-your-own wedding invitations.”

Honestly, after he got that disaster JJ called a “photoshoot,” he wasn’t taking any more risks.

\---

It’d been a whirlwind four months since Victor practically leaped through the door, shrieking uncharacteristically incoherently before calming himself enough to get out a “Guess what?”

“Why,” Yurio grumbled, but he set his laptop down nonetheless.

“I just got-were you just looking through shirtless pictures of Otabek?” Victor trailed off as his attention was drawn to a mirror selfie of Otabek, shirtless and giving a stone-faced thumbs-up in the mirror.  
“No,” Yurio snapped, flipping Victor off. “Get out.”

“But my good news-”

“Fine. Tell me and then get out.”

Victor bit his lip to hold back a squeal and held up his left hand, now adorned with a silver ring.  
Yurio’s only response was a cursory glance and “I thought you were already married.”

“What?”

“I thought that you were already married,” Yurio repeated. “Because I saw you and Yuuri acting all gross and then you had rings when you guys went on that trip. And you’re practically an old married couple already, so.”

“Oh. Well. Now it’s official. Yay!” Victor waved his hands and bounced on the heels of his feet.

“Good for you. Get out.”

“Wait, how long did you think we were dating for?”

“Since you two lovesick fucks met?” Yurio said in a ‘shouldn’t it be obvious?’ tone.

“You thought we were dating from the moment we met?”

“Maybe,” Yurio said, turning away.

\---

And then Yuuko let it slip to Victor that Yurio was actually a kickass wedding planner, and Victor came crawling to Yurio’s door with that heart mouth thing he did when he was trying to convince his friends to do stupid shit for him.

“Can you?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine. I’ll just get JJ to plan everything-”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT. I’M PLANNING THIS GODDAMN WEDDING IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO.”

\---

Yurio absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around his finger, setting his tablet down to look at Victor and Yuuri on the couch. “Any special requests before I send this in?”

“Have an ice sculpture!” Victor suggested.

“What, of your face?”

“No. Of Makkachin!”

Makkachin trotted into the room at the sound of her name, jumping on the couch and flopping on top of Viktor and Yuuri. 

“That is a terrible idea for many reasons,” Yurio said, sending the flattest expression he could muster up and ignoring how adorable that would actually be. “Besides, if anybody’s getting an ice sculpture, it’s Potya.”

“I think we could do without it,” Otabek chimed in, not looking up from his phone. “It’s inevitably going to shatter on the floor at some point during the reception. And it’s expensive.”

“Do we need to plan the menu?” Yuuri asked, eyes going wide behind his glasses.

“We are not having pork katsudon for every course,” Yurio vetoed.

“I… was definitely not going to suggest that,” Yuuri denied, twiddling his fingers and looking away. Makkachin let out a whine.

\---

“What the actual hell,” Yurio declared when he opened the door. He’d had a long day running around and fielding off frantic phone calls from Victor. Otabek had been just as busy, if not more, and he was collapsed on the sofa, sound asleep. Which was why Victor and Yuuri were sitting on the floor and Victor was snuffling in Yuuri’s lap, head curled away from Yurio.

“What color is Victor’s hair,” Yuuri said with a expression that screamed “done.”

“Gray?”

“No!” Victor shrieked with the passion of a thousand suns, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist. Otabek lurched up from his melted, half-assed sleeping position.

“I said it was white,” Yuuri told Yurio. “He had a meltdown right here. Hasn’t moved for four hours.”

“What color is Victor’s hair?” Yurio asked Otabek. Otabek squinted at a desolate Victor, rocking back and forth.

“Silver?”

“IT’S _PLATINUM_ ,” Victor screeched, dissolving into sobs and turning over so that his face was squashed into the carpet. Yuuri rolled his eyes.

“Unbelievable,” Yurio muttered, turning and walking up the stairs.

\---

“SUIT SHOPPING,” Victor screamed as he marched into Yurio and Otabek’s still and peaceful room at ass o' clock, tooting an airhorn.

“The best part of any wedding is the clothes. This must go off perfectly. If I take a risk and wind up making a horrible fashion choice, I will look back on my wedding album and burn it. If I go with a bland classic, I will hit myself for eternity because I did not take a fashion risk.” Victor was pacing around Yurio and Otabek’s bed and ticking off points on his fingers. "It's a lose-lose situation!"

“Mrgh,” Yurio mumbled, curling into Otabek’s chest. “Too early in the morning for this shit.” Otabek’s arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“Get up,” Victor announced mercilessly, ripping off the sheets and prancing out of the room. “We’re going shopping!”

“He should thank the stars we weren’t in the nude,” Otabek mumbled.

\---

“This one?”

“Sure,” Otabek said without looking up from his phone.

“Nah,” Victor mumbled to himself, peering at his butt. “Not flattering.”

“Otabek,” Yurio whispered while Victor was distracted. “Why the hell would anyone go through this level of stress and planning just to have a minister say some words and then kiss?”

“Because it’s special to them,” Otabek replied, hand covering Yurio’s. “They know they love each other, and they want to cement it forever.”

“But it’s just words.”

“It’s more than that,” Otabek said, smiling slightly. “It’s like showing someone you’re loyal to them unconditionally. Forever.”

“Huh,” Yurio grumbled. “I still don’t get it.”

Yuuri walked out in a simple black tuxedo, effectively cutting their conversation short.

“Sharp,” Yurio commented, giving a lazy thumbs up and slumping down on the couch.

“What about _this _one, though?” Yuuri asked, holding up a suit that looked exactly identical to the one he had on.__

____

“Isn’t that the exact same suit?” Otabek asked.

“No! They’re completely different. See?”

Yurio and Otabek squinted between the two suits.

“Ugh. Never mind,” Yuuri sighed resignedly, flouncing back into the dressing room.

“My parents never seemed like they loved each other,” Otabek confessed quietly. “They always seemed like business partners. I started ice skating because I couldn’t stay in my room or watch them do their work on opposite ends of the house.”

“So you want to see what love feels like,” Yurio guessed.

“Maybe. And maybe it’ll fall apart,” Otabek said in a final tone. Yurio got the hint: conversation over.

“They should wear feline onesies instead of boring suits,” Yurio suggested, peering at Otabek. It worked: Otabek’s brow relaxed into almost-smoothness and he allowed one corner of his mouth to turn up just slightly.

\---

One in the morning. And out of the thousand paper cranes they were supposed to make, they’d made… two hundred. Stray bowls littered the table, a half-eaten pirozhki on one plate. A mountain of pirozhki was sitting on the counter, but neither Yurio or Otabek were energetic enough to get up and bring it to the table where they were slumped.

“This is impossible,” Otabek mumbled, crumpling another paper into a ball. “Why would Victor and Yuuri want a thousand paper cranes? Are you making any better progress-”

“102,” Yurio stated proudly from behind the towering pile of paper cranes. He polished off the half-pirozhki. “Starting on 103.”

Otabek stood up to peer down at Yurio. "Are you even behind there?"

"Paper crane number 103 in progress," Yurio announced.

Yurio’s long fingers folded and turned deftly, pressing down slightly to form the crane body. He balanced it on his palm. “There! Perfect.”

Then he frowned, pulling it away. “No, wait. Can you hand me a Sharpie?”

“What are you planning?” Otabek asked, but he handed him a Sharpie anyway. Yurio scribbled a few rushed lines, capped the Sharpie and tossed it across the table.

“There,” he declared, biting his lip and holding it up. “Now it’s perfect.”

He’d drawn a stoic face and scribbled an undercut on the top of the crane’s head, and drawn a medal around the crane’s neck. “It’s you!”

Otabek blinked, tilting his head to gaze at the crane.

“Come on, don’t you like it?” Yurio pressed, eyes expectant.

“I love it,” Otabek finally forced out, taking it in his hands carefully.

Yurio beamed, dragging his finger across his plate to catch the last pirozhki crumbs.

Sure, it was ridiculous. Not to mention horribly drawn. But the happy expression on Yurio’s face cemented the stupid paper crane in his mind as the best thing he’d ever made for Otabek.

\---

“Boxes are packed,” Otabek announced. “We can load up and start driving by noon.”

“Great. I’m so ready to be done with this whole wedding planning nonsense,” Yurio muttered.

“Come on, isn’t there at least a miniscule part of you that enjoyed that?” Victor asked pleadingly.

“No,” Yurio lied.

Truth be told, it had been fun running around and really getting to focus on something with Otabek, other than ice skating (duh). But no way would he ever admit that to Victor. He'd get way too excited.

“Ahh, sorry. I had to find clean clothes,” Yuuri exclaimed, running down the stairs in one of Victor’s baggy hoodies and sweatpants.

“You are aware you’re getting married in literally two days, correct?” Yurio asked, crossing his arms.

“Not like it’s been the only thing on my mind since, oh, I don’t know, I met Victor,” Yuuri deadpanned. “Yes. Of course.”

“And are you aware that Phichit is going to have a litter of kittens when he sees this?” Yurio continued, voice steadily getting louder as he gestured to Yuuri’s greasy, unwashed mess of hair.

“Oh, Jesus. What shampoo have you been using?” Victor said in horror, running his hands through Yuuri’s mop of dark hair, cringing, and wiping them on his pants. “Well. Guess I’ll burn these pants.”

“I’ve been using shampoo,” Yuuri protested, batting hands away from his hair.

“Except when you haven’t,” Yurio interjected. “I can’t. I’ll let Phichit deal with this disaster. He’s the one who will actually know what to do with… that.” He pointed accusingly at Yuuri’s hair.

Yuuri ran a hand through his hair self-consciously. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

\---

Phichit’s shriek could be heard five miles away. Or at least two floors down in the room where Victor was laboriously combing his already perfectly smooth, “platinum,” hair.

“YUURI! THIS IS THE DIRTIEST THING I’VE SEEN SINCE MY BROWSER HISTORY!”

“CALM DOWN, PHICHIT-”

“SHUT UP, CHRIS. YOU KNOW I’M RIGHT.”

“Phichit’s freaking out,” Otabek observed stoically, leaning on the doorway.

“Poor Phichit,” Minami said sympathetically. “At least I got the easier job of Victor.”

“No you didn’t,” Yurio said. “Watch.”

Victor was pacing around the room, reaching his hand to his mouth as if to bite his nails and then slapping his hands away. “Oh my god I’m getting married to Yuuri Katsuki how oh my god he is so beautiful what did I do to deserve him-”

“Good luck,” Yurio concluded, and fled with Otabek in tow.

“So…” Otabek started, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. “You want to get out and let Phichit, Chris, and Minami do their job?”

“Hell yeah,” Yurio said sourly, grabbing Otabek’s hand and running to his motorcycle. “Come on.”

\---

“Do you want tissues? Weddings always make me cry,” Mila whispered to Celestino. “They’re so adorable together!” She bounced in her seat.

“I’m fine,” Celestino replied, settling in his seat. “I’m just excited to be here to see Yuuri!”

“You know, I haven’t been to a wedding in a long time,” Mila confessed, turning completely to Celestino. “I’m excited!”  
Otabek, standing at the altar with a small velvet box in his hands, tried to block out the noise of the guests, but Mila’s high voice rose above all of the other guests. Almost unconsciously, he found himself listening to their conversation.

“So what do you think about Otabek?” asked Celestino. “Yurio is like a little brother to you. How do you feel about his boyfriend?”

“You know, I’ve seen Yurio look at Otabek when he thinks he’s being subtle,” Mila said thoughtfully, unaware of the way Otabek’s attention was suddenly fully on her. “He really loves him. And Otabek doesn’t smile that much, but you should see him when he’s with Yurio. It’s such a transformation!”

“That’s true. I swear, nothing else exists when they’re looking at each other.”

Otabek stared unabashedly at the chatting pair, revenant. It was one thing to wake up with Yurio’s arm carelessly slung around his stomach, and quite another to have someone outside of their relationship see how much Yurio loved him. And here he’d thought they were pretty low-lying in PDA and (relatively) good at hiding any hickeys and back scratches.

Okay, they were terrible at hiding hickeys. It wasn’t his fault Victor had the eyes of a hawk.

Too much time spent around Victor and Yuuri, he guessed. Those two didn’t know when to stop, which to the untrained eye might have seemed like laying it on thick, but it was just in their nature to love easily and freely.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Leo’s violin starting “Wedding March” and a slowly trotting Makkachin entering, laboriously holding a bouquet of roses in her mouth.

“Damn! How long did it take to train Makkachin to do that?” Yuuko whispered next to the other maids of honor, leaning forwards.

“Too long,” Otabek mumbled to himself, silently willing the dog not to run off the aisle and knock something over.

And it, miraculously, worked. Makkachin came to a stop and sat, panting in anticipation around the bouquet in her mouth.

And then Victor walked in in a simple tuxedo with a rose in it and his hair tied back in a simple bun with strands falling out, arm linked with Yakov’s. The normally severe expression on Yakov’s face seemed to have smoothed out overnight, and there was only pride and love in his face.

“I wonder why Victor didn’t go more… flamboyant,” Yuuko wondered quietly. “I guess we’ll find out soon.”

Truth be told, Otabek had wondered that too when he saw Victor’s choice, but Victor had waved him off with a mysterious smile and a “You’ll see.”

Otabek snuck a glance at Yurio, sitting with the other groomsmen and looking rather out of place with his tiny frame and slightly-softened scowl, waiting until he was sure no one was paying attention to him to send him a tiny wave.

Yurio scowled and looked away, a blush coloring his cheeks, but he gave a small wave back.

Victor came to a stop at the podium, clasping his hands. Otabek spotted the tiny movements of his fingernails digging into his palms to keep them from fidgeting. The confident, perpetually optimistic Victor Nikiforov was nervous?

Years of people-watching had taught Otabek a general grasp of tells. Victor wasn’t nervous, exactly, more like he was preparing to jump off a cliff.

Like he’d been waiting his entire life for this.

And then Yuuri walked in steadily, eyes furiously focused (probably on not falling) with his hair slicked back and with an even less intricate tuxedo on, a rose tucked in the pocket. His arm was intertwined with Toshiya Katsuki, and he had the same struck look on his face.

Otabek took a step back to accommodate Yuuri as he approached Victor and took his hands. It seemed strangely private, not like they were shutting the others out, but like they were blind to anyone else.

\---

Yurio, staring at them from an audience’s point of view, finally got it.

He’d said he didn’t understand why people needed marriage, when it had turned so banal and dull. But the way Victor looked at Yuuri?

Definitely not dull.

\---

When he was a child, Yurio had read the Little Prince, how he found a rose, and even though the rose left him and he left her, he never stopped loving her, allowed himself to go through a lifetime of pain for her, allowed himself to die for her. He told Mila he didn’t understand it.

“I’d rather live than love like that and die,” he’d said condescendingly.

Mila had sighed, placing a cool hand on his head. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

\---

Love.

\---

And judging by the look on Otabek’s face, the look he got when he’d completely let his guard down, he felt the same way.

Yurio shook himself just in time to hear Yuuri start his speech with a raspy clearing of his throat.

\---

“We decided we wanted a little reading to each other on this day, so here goes. Hopefully I don’t mess this up too badly.” Yuuri let out a shaky laugh, pulling out a crumpled paper.

“Victor Nikiforov was almost a mythical name to me. He’d accomplished so much, and he didn’t know this, but I started figure skating with him as my idol. He is the reason I picked my skates out from the dusty corner of my closet, and when he showed up in the hot springs, I almost couldn’t believe he wa-was real.”

Otabek saw a few dark spots start to splash on the paper Yuuri was holding.

“He was a legend to me back then, and even when he touched me, it felt like a dream.” Yuuri paused to clear his throat and blink furiously. “The only regret I have had is that it took so long for me to wake up and see him.”

Yuuri was full-on crying now, and he barely managed to choke the last words out.

“Now, you’re standing in front of me and I can barely stand it,” Yuuri forced out. “I love you, and I always will.”

He wiped the tears from his face, ducking his head from the audience’s applause.

Victor stared at Yuuri with a childlike expression of wonder, before minutely shaking himself, pulling out a small slip of paper, and giving a polite cough before starting.

“I love you,” Victor said confidently. Yuuko let out a little laugh through her Kleenex.

“I know that may seem like a strange way to start off a speech, but it’s the most important part. When we met, I didn’t know we’d still be together now. It’s the most improbable, most blessed thing that I’ve ever experienced.”

Victor took a second to look into Yuuri’s eyes, hand brushing briefly against the other’s, before continuing.

“I saw you skating on the ice with the most passion you’d experienced in a long time. I knew right away that I would do anything, bring the world to your feet, even, to bring that light back in your eyes. You are the most important thing to me, and I would follow you anywhere, whether it’s to the other side of the universe or right here.” Victor brought his hand, still clasping Yuuri’s, to rest over his heart.

“Home.”

Otabek snuck a glance of Yurio through the flurry of clapping hands to see him furiously dabbing at his eyes, staring raptly at the couple.

“I think you outdid me,” Yuuri whispered to Victor.

“Nonsense,” Victor whispered back. “Nothing could outdo you today.”

“Ahem.” The minister cleared his throat, inconspicuously wiping a tear from his eye. “We are gathered together here to unite this man, Victor Nikiforov, and this man, Yuuri Katsuki in the bonds of matrimony. If anyone has any reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Do you, Victor Nikiforov, take Yuuri Katsuki to be your lawfully wedded husband? If so, answer I do.”

“I do,” Victor answered in a steady, ringing voice.

“And do you, Yuuri Katsuki, take Victor Nikiforov to be your lawfully wedded husband? If so, answer I do.”

“I do,” Yuuri answered in a wavering voice, biting back a smile.

Otabek stepped forwards, opening the box, holding the rings out and whispering “Congratulations.” Yuuri’s hand trembled as he took it, slipping it on Victor’s hand reverently.

Victor reached out for the other ring, sliding it on and squeezing Yuuri’s hand briefly.

“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss-”

Yuuri launched himself at Victor, kissing him through his sheer laughter and tears. Victor’s arms came around his waist, holding him steady through the applause and the epiphany.

Husbands.

\---

“Did you fold all of these?” Mila asked Yurio, pointing at the sea of paper cranes above them. “They’re so beautiful! Who came up with the idea?”

“Otabek. It was all his idea. I just folded a lot of them,” Yurio replied, jumping up and swatting a large sky blue one. “They look amazing, don’t they?”

Across the room, Yuuri laughed as Victor struggled to swallow his gigantic mouthful of cake.  
“Just give it up, Victor.”

“Nonsense! I can do anything I put my mind to!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Victor!” Yuuko squealed, hugging him around the waist and picking him up.

“Yuuko,” Victor choked out, face going pale. “I can’t… breathe…”

“Oh, right!” Yuuko said sheepishly, setting Victor down. “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri said cautiously, backing away from her.

“How’s married life so far?” she continued.

“Pretty good, although someone-” Yuuri sent a pointed look at Victor. “-refuses to tell me where the honeymoon is.”

“Somewhere nice,” Victor promised, kissing the top of Yuuri’s head. “Don’t worry.”

Yuuri grumbled, walking off to a sobbing Phichit and a grinning Chris.

“Victor?” Yuuko asked. Across the room, Phichit wailed, “That was so beautiful, I can’t-”

“Yes?”

“I know that you’re an expensive man,” Yuuko said.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Victor replied smoothly, nudging his Armani bag under the table.

“Come on, Victor,” Yuuko said. “Why didn’t you dress all fancy? Is it because you felt like going with the good ol’ classic look tonight?”

“No,” Victor said thoughtfully. “It’s because I didn’t want to outshine Yuuri. This is his day, after all.”

He didn’t say it in any significant way, just like it was an obvious fact. Day and night are opposites. The sun is bright. Yuuri Katsuki deserves the world.

“Hm. Thanks, Victor!” Yuuko said, before hurrying over to Yuuri. “Yuuri, can I talk to you?”

“Please don’t strangle me like you did to Victor,” Yuuri mumbled, but he turned towards her anyway. “Sure.”

“Why’d you wear an even plainer suit than Victor? I would’ve thought that you would want to shine, especially today.”

“I didn’t want to outshine Victor. It’s his day,” Yuuri replied, blinking at Yuuko like it was obvious.

Yuuko smiled at him, patting his shoulder. “You two really are the perfect couple.”

Yuuri blushed, looking away. “Victor Nikiforov is my husband.” He let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go spend time with your husband!” Yuuko teased, shoving him towards Victor.

“Yuuko?” Takeshi called, walking up to her.

“Yeah?”

“Where are Otabek and Yurio?” he asked. “I wanted to see the favorite groomsman and best man!”

Yuuko scanned the room. “I don’t know. But,” she added quickly, “I probably wouldn’t disturb them right now. Something tells me they might want to be alone.”

\---

“We did good,” Yurio said sleepily, curled up in Otabek’s lap.

“Lucky we rented a place with a porch and a swing,” Otabek mumbled, head thrown back on the bench.

“Otabek?” Yurio said, sitting up and shaking his arm. Otabek grunted, but he opened his eyes.

“Remember when we were talking about weddings during suit shopping?”

“Yes?”

“I think I understand now,” Yurio says. “It’s looking at each other like Victor and Yuuri look at each other. Like they’re blind to the world.”

“And making paper cranes at 1 in the morning over pirozhki,” Otabek added.

“And taking motorcycle rides.”

“And arguing over hair color.”

“And making flower crowns for each other.”

“And waking up together.”

"Really? My favorite part is going to bed together."

Yurio hummed in agreement. "That too."

They were quiet for a moment.

“Otabek?”

“Yes?”

“Have I…” Yurio suddenly sounded like a small child. “Do you think you know what love is now?”

Otabek considered.

“Ota?”

“Yes,” Otabek confessed. “I don’t think I could ever get over you, Yura.”

Yurio shifted so that he was lying flat across Otabek’s legs. “Love you too,” he said quietly.

_The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart. _-Antoine Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince__

**Author's Note:**

> mom: working hard on schoolwork I see!
> 
> me: yes that's me what a hard worker I am. working diligently on schoolwork.
> 
> @Phichits_BrowserHistory please tell me you got that reference to your username
> 
> Come yell at me on Instagram! @likes_drawing_hates_painting
> 
> I post art I pooped out there.
> 
> Comment! Kudos! Bookmark!
> 
> I like comments the best, but I ain't picky. If you want to leave comments but you can't because Archive is a dick about the stupid waitlist, use 10minutemail.com for the email address! Doesn't require an account, is free, and you get a new address every 10 minutes!


End file.
